


Far As I Can See

by nosecoffee



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alex is a smol bean who needs to be protected, Brief mentions of injuries and death, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, John is good at hugging, Nightmares, Polyamorous relationship/marraige, Reference to traumatic experiences, Storms, father/son bonding, i think, idk - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-01
Updated: 2016-03-01
Packaged: 2018-05-24 03:36:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6140335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nosecoffee/pseuds/nosecoffee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"No I don't want to tell you about it, John, I want you to hold me and reassure me that I'm not going to drown." Alexander's tone seemed like it was intended to be icy, but came out in a whimper, as a tree branch whacked the window.</p><p>"Well, I can do that," John told him, gently prying Alex's hand from his wrist and turning the boy over so he could spoon him, with an arm wrapped tight around his waist and his lips pressed to his throat. "I've been told I give great hugs."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Comfort Me

**Author's Note:**

> Heya. This was written for the headcanon that Alex is really afraid of thunderstorms 'cause they remind him of The Hurricane. This was supposed to be fluffy, and then it got heavy, so if you're looking for fluff, this isn't the place. Turn back, or some shit.

"Laurens!" A voice hissed and John turned over sluggishly, wondering who on Earth had decided to wake him up.

  
The wind was howling outside and rain and hailstones splattered loudly against the windows and roof.

  
"John!" There was a lightning strike, lighting the room up briefly to give John the view of Alexander, standing in his doorway and shaking like a leaf.

  
Thunder rumbled loud overhead, and Alexander physically whimpered, clinging to the doorway with white knuckles and the most helplessly frightened face.

  
"Alexander?" He whispered. The storm was getting bad, he wondered how he'd slept through it.

  
"John, I-"

  
Thunder came again, and this time, Alexander was scampering across the room, and diving under John's covers. He opened his mouth to complain, and then remembered Alex's brief description when they'd met about how he got here.

  
_'Dad left, mom died, cousin kicked the bucket, hurricane destroyed everything I had and left me mentally disturbed, got a scholarship. Simple as that.'_

  
"Oh, Alexander." He sat up, and rubbed his eyes and a jagged lightning bolt was visible from his window. He patted the lump under his quilt, and felt the shorter boy quivering beneath his hand. "Alex, it's okay."

  
"No it's not," was the whispered reply, and John found himself sighing and digging under the covers himself.

  
"It's not okay, John." Alexander told him desperately. The thunder was slightly muffled, by the howling wind and the quilt cover, but still loud, causing Alexander to grip his forearm tightly.

  
"Oh," John responded, meeting Alexander's eyes in the dark, watching the orange of his covers light up around them, and they lay scrunched into tight balls next to each other, heads under the covers, as they hid from a monster that couldn't quite reach them. "Do you want to tell me about it?"

  
"No I don't want to tell you about it, John, I want you to hold me and reassure me that I'm not going to drown." Alexander's tone seemed like it was intended to be icy, but came out in a whimper, as a tree branch whacked the window.

  
"Well, I can do that," John told him, gently prying Alex's hand from his wrist and turning the boy over so he could spoon him, with an arm wrapped tight around his waist and his lips pressed to his throat. "I've been told I give great hugs."

  
They lay like that for a while, with Alexander practically vibrating in his arms, the occasional gasp or sob when the lightning got to close, or hail pounded too hard.  
It had quietened down a bit when he heard Alex talking.

  
"It was a few years after my mom died. We had no warning. It started just like this, just a storm. But then the wind started knocking trees down and blowing tiles off roofs and people got scared and people drowned and people got hit by heavy stuff and died. And I managed to get myself on a roof, and watched as everyone else tried to fish themselves out of the water, unable to help." He took a deep, shuddery breath a continued. "And the eye hit, and everything was quiet and still for about five minutes. We could see the sky again, only a bit of cloud obscuring it and spitting rain down on us. The sky was yellow. Did you know that? The sky goes yellow. It was crazy. Anyway, I finally got off the roof to help this couple, and the girl had got a stick through her leg, and I got them onto a shelter when the roof caved in on them and people screamed and just like that the wind started up again and this time people were dead and I was in the water."

  
John didn't think he'd ever heard someone cry like this.

  
"And I was underwater for a long time. I couldn't breathe and I thought I saw my life flashing in front of my eyes. I saw my dad, before he left, and my mom, when she was still healthy, and my brother and my cousin, and the couples blood was smeared all over me. I thought I'd never see the sun again.

  
"But I surfaced and got myself somewhere dry, and tried not to touch the place where a "Stop" sign had knocked against me while I was underwater."

  
Alex turned in John's arms, and he wiped the visible tears away.

  
"They found me about two days later, when they were looking for survivors and corpses and sending in helicopters and looking for people buried under piles of debris."

  
Alex held John too, his arms curling around John's neck, playing with the loose curls framing with his face.

  
The storm outside had quietened down, and the thunder was far away now and the rain less demanding and the wind almost nonexistent.

  
John felt Alex's steadying breaths on his neck and looked down to find the boy passed out in his arms.

  
And yes the storm was passing but Alexander was a hurricane in himself and for that matter, one that would never pass. Jong settled, and let Alexander's even breathing lull him back to sleep, in the arms of a frightened boy.

 

 

**Fin.**


	2. Remind Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I had a bad dream," the boy admitted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is written for Tumblr user @helplessbutnotsatisfied who requested AHam/Philip bonding time. This is the best I can do for the moment, but I'll try and write something else.

"Daddy?" The voice was quite like his own, Alexander had to admit, as he stirred from his sleep to find Philip standing in his Winnie the Pooh onesie by the edge of his bed.

  
Alex rubbed his eyes and sat up, looking down concernedly at his six year-old. "What's wrong, Pip?"

  
Philip shuffled uncomfortably under his fathers gaze and Alexander glanced at the clock. 3:17 blinked back.

  
"I had a bad dream," the boy admitted.

  
Alex shuffled over and patted the bed next to him. Eliza and John were away for the next week, so there was room to spare. "Did you now?"

  
Philip nodded and climbed onto the bed, settling himself under the covers beside Alexander. "It was about you. You were alone. Without mommy, or pa, or anyone, and you were scared."

  
Alex bit his lip, stopping himself from saying anything like "I was, once" in front of his kid.

  
"And I was scared for you. And you couldn't breathe, daddy-" Philip broke off and sobbed and Alexander leaned over to cradle his son against his side to calm him, though inside he was rattled.

  
"Shush, it's alright, Pip. I swear mommy and pa and I are okay." He kissed Philip's soft curls. "I promise."

  
He lay down and let Philip lay his head on his chest, soothing him, and stroking his back and hair until the boy was asleep.

  
He was reminded, oddly, of a night so many years ago, when the thunder rattled the panes of glass in the walls and made the foundations quiver, when he'd snuck into John's room, and slept in his bed, curled around the boy.

  
He was reminded how he'd taken comfort in John being there and listening to him talk and holding him. Philip looked so like him. He'd tell his husband so when he got home.

 

 

**Fin.**

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on Tumblr @nose-coffee, send me requests, prompts, or just simply scream at me.  
> As always, thank you, and I hope you enjoyed! :P


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